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Ferris could be dangerously charming when he chose to be. The very real prospect that he could become president and turn some of his bizarre philosophical musings into legislation was terrifying to Kennedy.
“Irene,” Alexander said. “Where are we with plugging these leaks?”
“We have a strong lead, and it’s my hope that we’ll be able to stop them shortly.”
The president was no happier with her response than she herself was. “I’m getting hammered on this, Irene. From our enemies, from our allies, from voters. And all you can give me is that you’re working on it?”
“Rickman was a brilliant man,” she said honestly. “That’s why he was in the position he was. I’m confident that we’re going to resolve the issue but I’m reluctant to make promises I may not be able to keep.”
“I suppose that’s the end of that conversation, then,” Alexander said, not bothering to hide his frustration. “What about Sunny’s delegation going to Pakistan? Things are looking pretty volatile over there and I’m sure Carl would prefer not to find himself in the middle of a Taliban attack.”
“I’m really not that concerned,” Ferris said.
Kennedy noted his response with interest. Ferris cared only about himself and had proven over and over to be a coward on virtually every level. His sudden lack of interest in his own safety flew in the face of everything she knew about the man.
“The Secret Service is taking this very seriously,” Kennedy said. “And, as you can imagine, the Pakistanis are putting their top people on President Chutani’s detail. Again, though, if you’re asking for guarantees, I can’t provide them.”
President Alexander glanced at his watch, hinting that the meeting was coming to a close. “I’m disappointed that we weren’t able to accomplish more here today. Does anyone have any other questions?”
“About a thousand,” Ferris said. “But it seems that Dr. Kennedy can’t answer any of them.”
“I’m confident that she’ll be able to soon,” Barbara Lonsdale said.
Alexander stood. “Thank you all for coming. Irene, could I have another moment of your time?”
Lonsdale leaned into her as she passed. “Chin up, Irene.”
Alexander went to his desk and sat but didn’t offer Kennedy a chair. “That didn’t go well.”
“No, sir, it didn’t.”
He spun a piece of paper on the blotter in front of him and slid it in her direction. It was immediately recognizable as the letter of resignation she’d signed on her first day as DCI.
The president could accept it anytime he chose but instead he pulled it back and put it in a drawer. Point made.
“I’m behind you, Irene. Your job is like mine. Pretty much impossible. You have thousands of people working for you and some of them aren’t the most stable or cooperative in the world. It’s a miracle things like this don’t happen more often.”
“Thank you for the vote of confidence, sir.”
“Don’t thank me too quickly. I’m not going to lie to you, Irene. This is bad. If I could think of a single person who could run the CIA better than you, you’d be looking for a job right now.”
“I understand, sir.”
“Then fix it, Irene. Not tomorrow. Not next week. Do it now.”
CHAPTER 47
SOUTH OF ANNAPOLIS
MARYLAND
U.S.A.
MITCH Rapp eased his Dodge Charger into the trees at the side of the dead-end road. He grabbed a pizza box and a six-pack of Coke from the passenger seat but then couldn’t bring himself to open the door. There was a reason he never came here. A lot of them.
He wasn’t sure how long he sat there but finally he reached for the handle. Not so much because he was ready but because it was about time for Mrs. Randall to start her afternoon walk. She was a nice old lady, but the last thing he needed was a woman in a tracksuit cooing sympathetically at him.
Seven years of wind and rain had cleared out the loose ash, leaving only the blackened skeleton of what had once been his and Anna’s home. The second floor was gone, as was most of one side, but there were still enough upright two-by-fours to conjure memories of what it had once been.
